Boundaries

Boundaries. Where do you end and I begin? When does today end and tomorrow arrive? I've been pondering these and similar questions lately.

 A friend was bugged by a blade of grass on my shoe after I had walked across a recently mowed field. He wanted to brush it away. I called him on it when he did, as I didn't notice, nor think he'd do that, before he did. He said, "Boundaries?" "Yep," I replied, and returned to reading my book.

I wanted to return to normal as quickly as possible, but someone had touched me unawares and uninvited. This was not a good thing as Ms. Stewart would say. I felt my skin crawling, looking down, I didn't see any ants or spiders or bugs of any kind. Just unblemished, pink skin.

I remembered other times I'd been touched unawares and uninvited. I was a teenager on the school bus and others were teasing me, tugging on bits and bobs. I was younger and in scrapes with neighboring kids, getting bloody knees and noses.

But, today, it was sunny. I was in my front yard. A friend was bugged by a blade of grass on my shoe. "Sorry," he said. I realized, I was okay and he was okay and it was just a blade of grass. I honestly was able to say, "Apology accepted."

We moved on with the rest of our day.